


The First Nightmare

by Randomthings (spangelbanger)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Het Relationship, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:12:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4919149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spangelbanger/pseuds/Randomthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first night in their new place coincides to the first nightmare Sam has about her death. It also happens on the same day Jess looses her virginity and one of their friends comes to help them unpack. Two of these things are connected, one is not. </p><p>Mostly though it's about the sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Nightmare

The apartment was probably a little outside their pay grade. That didn't stop them from falling in love with the place the first time they'd seen it. It was close to the school which meant less time on public transport. They had found it by sheer dumb luck someone who knew someone knew Brady, who knew they were looking at getting a place together. A good deal and a little negotiating and they were moved in.

There weren't that many boxes once they'd both cleared out their dorms. The walls were bare, and the paint was chipped, together they'd scrapped up enough to buy a bed and a few small things to fill the space.

Sam walked out of the bedroom to find Jessica sitting in the middle of the floor a box knife poised over a taped up box. “Let it wait,” He said pulling her to her feet, “We've got our own place, I think breaking it in is more important than getting everything unpacked right now.” The weight of what was about to happen sat unspoken between them.

“Sam,” she failed to reach the scolding tone she was aiming for. Instead it came out soft and adoring, he led her into the bedroom, their bedroom. His heart felt like it was going to trip out of his chest at the thought. This was really happening, he had a place with his name on the lease, and a bedroom that was his, and a beautiful girl to share the space with. The boxes could wait, Sam couldn't. He'd already set up the bedroom while she had been unpacking boxes in the living room, had dropped almost as much on making their first night in their new place perfect as he had on the bed. A CD player played softly a mix of things he thought she might like. He had lit enough candles to constitute a fire hazard, and placed a single long stem rose in a vase by the bed.

He lifted her into his arms before she could walk through the doorway, a surprised giggle erupted from her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He crossed the distance to the bed in long strides and laid her down on the sheet covered mattress. Maybe he should have taken the time to make the bed first but she didn't seem to mind.

He stared down at her letting himself try to picture the way their future would go. It felt different than the sex he'd had before. It felt like a bigger deal, not just because she was a virgin, but because he felt the edge of the future bearing down on him, for once maybe he'd be okay, he still felt a little out of place, but it didn't seem to matter so much when she was staring back, blue eyes sparkling mischievously, “you gonna stare all night or join me?” Underneath the attitude he knew she was at least partially terrified, in a weird way she reminded him of Dean that way, when she was nervous, or afraid, or angry, she cracked jokes just as easily as his brother had. Unlike his brother, Sam knew what she was afraid of.

He stripped his t-shirt over his head and crawled onto the bed with her. One hand came to rest on her stomach, the other supported his weight while he kissed her slow and teasing when he pulled back she chased his lips with her own. He laughed, leaned down and nipped playfully at her bottom lip.

He let the hand on her stomach drift up to brush a stray curl out of her face, the urge to stare overwhelmed him. He wanted to memorize every inch of her face, every freckle, every stray hair, every look that made her nose crinkle and her eyes light up. He wanted all of it.

This time when he kissed he brushed a hand over her breast through the thick cotton of her t-shirt. She arched up into his touch. Her fingers tangled in his hair holding him closer. She tugged at it slightly and fireworks sparked down his spine at the roughness of her touch.

She was beautiful and all curves and feminine beauty, but she was so sure of what she wanted, never hesitated to grab him and drag him to her, and he went where she lead lost himself in her eyes and her kisses. If she grew impatient she didn't let it show, let him explore her lips as slowly as he wanted. The hand slid down slower resting against the denim clad v of her legs. He rubbed small circles against her through the clothes, not speeding up even when her breath hitched and her legs spread a little wider for him.

He latched onto her neck, kissing and biting, careful not to bite hard enough to bruise, quiet needful noises were coming from her with every movement of his hand. He pulled back enough to look at her, “what do you want?” He whispered before catching her earlobe between his teeth and tugging at it gently.

His name came from her lips in a low whine, “stop teasing me,”

“Not teasing,” he said pushing her shirt up, she raised up enough for him to strip it over her head and flung it toward door, he smiled letting his eyes linger over the way her bra. And wanted it gone, wanted to tug at the dusky nipple he could see pressing hard against the material.

He wanted to taste the skin there, he pressed a kiss against her lips, and another over her collar bone, before nipping the swell of her cleavage playfully. He sucked the beaded point through the lace of her bra, soaking the cotton underneath until it darkened, wet with his spit. She made a frustrated noise and raised up enough to unhook the strap herself. Sam pulled it from her shoulder's and dropped it onto the floor before turning back to her breast, he trapped the bud between his teeth and flicked his tongue across it a few times before sucking it back into his mouth.

His real attention was on the way she was responding to his hand, teasing up and down her thighs, occasionally pressing and rubbing hard against her clit through her clothes before moving on to touch, and stroke and caress somewhere else. If the way her hips rocked up to meet his touch was any indication she was probably dripping wet.

When he was done teasing her he wanted to taste that wetness, wanted to suck on her clit until she was screaming his name, and to keep going until she forgot her own. The thought made him smile. She didn't notice it, too caught up in the rapture of his touch.

He kept going, waiting until she was pulling hard at his hair trying to get his attention, whispering his name with just the first hint of desperation. He wanted more, wanted everything she could give him and then some. Wanted to hear the sounds she couldn't help but make.

He finally had enough, wanted to taste the heaven between her legs. He wasted no time to get her pants off they joined the rest of her clothes and he grabbed her knees pushing them up over his shoulders while he moved down between her legs, he dipped a finger into the liquid dripping out of her and brought it up to his lips, sucking on the finger hungrily while she watched. Hr eyes drifted closed, a scarlet flush took over her cheeks, that was what he wanted to see. He dove forward licking from the top of her pussy in a straight line down as far as he could reach. She jerked up at the touch, a sound like she'd been electrocuted came from her and he felt the surge of pride at the sound. It was good, but he wasn't done yet. She tasted sweet and he just couldn't get enough of her. He was starving for the taste of her pussy, he ate her out with a calculated desperation, pushing her as close to cumming as he could get when her legs started trembling and the hand in his hair tightened almost painfully he pulled back just enough to let her catch her breath. His fingers rubbed along her labia teasing against the wet folds. And she opened her eyes to look at him, a question hung between them. Before she could voice it, he pushed a finger into her, seeking deeply watching her face for the places that felt good. She was so easy to read, her eyes drifted closed every time that he found something she liked, her lips parted around gasps and moans and sighs, and he loved watching her in her pleasure. Loved it in a way that made it easy to ignore his cock straining in his jeans, a way that made it easy to not care if they had sex because making her feel good was the most important part. If she wanted him to stop for any reason then he would.

He stilled his hand and went back to suck on her clit, occasionally letting the fingers rock forward when her hips rolled just the right way.

He stopped and rested his head against her inner thigh, watching her face while he fingered her, watching the way that she seemed lost in the sensation, he felt a rush of power at having her laid out like this from his hands, and his mouth. It felt good to have her so utterly wrecked because of him. He stopped long enough to pour a generous amount of lube into his palm and smeared it around her pussy, pressing it in until she was glistening wet reflecting orange streaks of light from the candles. He groaned and recaptured her swollen clit in his mouth, needing to taste her, not wanting to taste the oily mineral taste of the lube. It didn't stop him though, urged him on, to drag her back to the edge of cumming before sinking into her. She was shaking apart beneath him in seconds, gasping and moaning and he felt the hard jerk of her hips. He worked her through it, not letting up. She hadn't regained her breath from the first orgasm when she closed her eyes, back arching again, and his name came out on a broken gasp, the harsh trembling started again and her fingernails clawed into his shoulder leaving crescent shaped marks in their wake.

This time when the spastic clenching of her muscles eased she pushed him away from her, “no more,” she gasped the words out. “Please, just do it, I'm as ready as I'm going to get.”

“I'll be careful,” he promised reaching for the button of his own jeans. He was glad he'd left them on, long enough to get her to this point, but now, he wanted nothing more than them out of the way.

When at last they were out of the way he knelt back between her legs, staring down at her, she was so beautiful and giving herself to him, he fought the urge to ask her what she was doing, ask her why someone as pure and good, and sweet as she was, was lying there, looking up at something as tainted as he was, legs spread for him, willing to give him this precious part of herself.

He leaned over her, covering her with his body, and kissed her again she tensed for a fraction of a second and then kissed him back, he didn't push into her, even though the position had the tip of his leaking cock pressed into the warm, wet folds, one quick snap of his hips and it'd be done and over. He couldn't do that though, not yet. He reached for the condom he'd stashed under the pillow case. And pulled it out.

She grabbed his hand, “No.” The flush was back in her cheeks and for a second he held at the edge of something large and unknown, his heart seemed to stop beating she looked down her eyes raking over the lithe form of his chest, “not at first at least,” she said, “the first time, when I feel you, I want it to be you, not latex.”

He wanted to ask her if she was crazy, wanted to ask her if she was trying to get pregnant, wanted to ask her a lot of things, but at the same time, he wanted the same thing, wanted to feel her wet and hot around him, separated by nothing. The thought hit him hard and low, his entire body seemed to curve around her. “Okay,” he whispered, he couldn't deny her anything. He already knew he intended to spend the rest of his life with her. Sure it was dangerous, but it wouldn't be the end of the world.

He slipped one lube slick finger into her making sure she was still relaxed enough to take him before he eased a second finger in with the first and she tensed.

“Shh, it's okay,” he whispered, “just a little more,” when he felt her relax he leaned over her again eye to eye to her when he guided the tip of his cock into her. His lips seeking hers out, one last time, she grabbed his arm, the other hand going to run through his hair again, and he held her eyes as he eased forward, felt her open around him and he slid smoothly into her.

Romantics say the world can stop, and time can stand still. In that moment, the world kept spinning, but it left them behind, too caught in each other to notice anything beyond each other, beyond the stretch of him filling the space inside her, thick and hard, and complete in a way neither had felt before.

Even without moving, they were both on the edge of cumming again. Sam worked a hand between them finding her clit and working it again. The first tentative thrust had her eyes flying open. It took a few minutes, but she started moving with him, holding onto him as he rocked into her, careful not to hurt her. If he dropped dead in that moment he would have been okay with it, nothing else in the world mattered. It took everything he had to keep from asking her to marry him right then and there. He swallowed down the words.

It was too much, too consuming, and every movement sent bolts of pleasure through him.

He pulled out of her before she pushed him over the edge, “I can't.” he whispered tearing open the condom and putting it on as quickly as he could. In one smooth movement he was back inside of her, thrusting quickly and a little too roughly, burying himself in the welcoming warmth of her pussy.

She moved with him, the feeling came back that this was so much more than just sex, he'd never be able to get enough of her.

He buried his face in her hair breathing in the smell of her shampoo, and the softness of her skin. She ran her nails down his back and he couldn't hold on another second. The orgasm was intense enough it felt like he was losing spinal fluid along with cum, filling the latex, when he really wanted to be filling her. The urge caught him by surprise.

Catching his breath took longer than he expected, he lay on top of her, watching her face for some sign she wasn't okay. She grinned at him, stretched languidly, then said, “Stop looking at me like that, I'm fine, you didn't hurt me.”

“Just had to be sure,” he said before kissing the top of her forehead.

There was a loud knock on the bedroom door, seconds before someone burst through it.

“Whoa, naked guy, sorry.” Brady said back tracking through the door.

“Oh god,” Jess said, flushing red and hiding her face between her hand, “doesn't he know how to knock?”

“He did knock.” Sam said pulling out of her and going to close the door that had still been left open.

By the time they got their clothes back on, whatever embarrassment she'd been feeling seemed to fade and she grabbed his hand before he could open the door and kissed him, before slipping past her out of the door.

Sam followed her, Brady was sitting on one of the chairs they'd yet to find a permanent spot for, the forgotten box knife in one hand while he was slicing into first stack of boxes, “you didn't have to rush on my account.” he said smirking up at them, “Seriously Jess, this guy?” He said gesturing the box knife at Sam, “I mean you could have had me.”

“You know I might have thought about it, but you're kind of a whore.” she said shrugging, “I mean is there anyone you're not willing to have sex with?”

He shrugged then changed the subject, “I brought you a house warming present.” He pulled a potted fern out from behind the box and handed it over, “but I think we should celebrate.” he said looking at Sam, a second item was picked, up a bottle of whiskey. “You got anything to mix with this?”

“Sorry, pretty much the only thing we have to drink yet is a pitcher of tea.”

“That will work.” He said standing up, flipping the box knife and sticking it in his back pocket. Sam tracked the motion slightly impressed at his dexterity.

Brady said, “I'll be right back, Jess you drinking?”

“Sure,” She said going back to the box she'd been working on when Sam had interrupted her. He sat down on the floor to start pulling things out of the box that Brady had opened.

A few seconds later he was back, a glass in each hand, he handed one to Sam and sat the other on the floor next to Jess since her hands were full. Across one palm was a thin red line that looked half way healed.

“What happened to your hand?” Sam asked, nodding toward it.

“I'm an idiot,” he said holding it up to look at it, “I got a little fucked up, dropped a glass, and tried to clean it up. I'm lucky I didn't fall on my face.”

“Might be an improvement.” Sam said joking,

“Yeah, then I might be as pretty as you are.” He countered, “are you going to drink that or can I have it?”

Sam lifted the glass to his lips, the whiskey burned but was cut by the sweetness of the tea, there was something else he couldn't place underneath that.

“What did you mix with it?”

“That's my secret.” he said, “just trust me, I know tricks bartenders never even dreamed of. Try to tell me that isn't the best Long Island ice tea you've ever had.”

Sam shrugged then drained the glass while he worked.

They made it through the boxes faster than Sam had expected. The place almost looked half way livable by the time they were done. Still pretty barren though. The fern found a place on the window sill. The strong whiskey had made Sam think of Dean, he pulled out his phone and he considered calling his brother, telling him about the new place. In the end he decided against it, pocketed the phone and going back to work. Jess was looking at the wall her head tilted like she was thinking hard.

“What?” He asked finally. 

She remained quiet a few seconds then spoke like she was talking more to herself than to him, “I was thinking about putting a painting up here.”

“Of what?” he asked softly wrapping his arms around her.

“I don't know yet, how do you feel about posing?”

“Sounds fun.”

“I'll pose for you,” Brady offered, looking up from his glass, “I mean you do mean naked right? I mean I hate to tell you this, I've seen Sam naked, You don't want that on your wall.”

Sam threw a look at him, “I really don't want to see your naked ass on my walls all day.”

“Ah, come on Sammy, you know you love my ass.”

“Don't call me that.” Sam said.

“I'm not painting anyone naked.” Jessica said shaking her head, “I mean I have to look at this every day.”

“Shit, I have to go,” Brady said looking at his watch, with a little too much drama to be real, “I'm suppose to be meeting this girl, down at a bar.”

“What's her name?” Sam asked, already knowing his friend had no clue.

“I don't fucking know, but she has the best coke.”

“You need to stop doing that shit,” Sam said, not looking at him, it was an argument they'd had countless times. The past year Brady had been different, something happened when he went home last November, he didn't want to talk about it, insisted that nothing had happened, he'd just gotten his eyes opened to the finer things in life. Sam knew better, people don't just change like that. The good kid who left, the genius friend he had that was going to be a doctor and save people had picked up a drug habit a rock star could be proud of. He jumped from one girl to the next, taking what he could get from them before moving on. But he wouldn't talk about it.

Sam didn't want to ask, didn't want to know, but he still wanted to help. Brady brushed him off, “unless you plan on letting me get high and fuck you, I think the bar is the better choice, I mean you're cute, but you're not really my type.”

Sam watched him go, then turned his focus back to his girl, the girl that had changed his life. She didn't even know it. Sam kissed her walking her backwards until her back was against the wall, he sank down to his knees in front of her tugging at the button of her pants,

“What are you doing?” She asked, when he'd finally dropped her clothes to the floor.

“Starving,” he answered, sounding as if it were the complete truth, he spread her lips apart with his fingers to seek out her clit. His cock had been painfully hard since he finished the drink and felt a energy bordering on hyper, he wanted her, wanted to fuck her rough and hard, wanted to take her right against the wall and put a dent in it with the force of their fucking, he wanted to bite into her skin and leave marks, wanted to hear her screaming his name. Wanted everything she could give him. More than any of that though, he wanted to make her feel better than she'd ever felt in her life, and the bed was just too far away for how badly he needed back inside her. As soon as he made her cum, before he legs could stop shaking he spun her around, guided her hands to the wall and lifted her enough to sheath his hard length inside her.

“Oh fucking god,” she groaned, “Sam, you're so fucking huge, I don't think I can take all of you like this.” She didn't stop him though when he just shifted the angle forcing a little more of his cock into her.

“Just hold tight baby,” he whispered, “I've got you.” he wanted to bury himself in her, wanted to cum in her till it dripped down her legs, the whiskey had him floating, feeling the edge of a good buzz. It was so good to have her pushing her ass back against him, feet spread wide. He leaned back enough to watch his cock disappearing into her. He dragged a finger up from the point they connected running it up over the pink rim of her hole. He wanted to push it in, wanted to hear the surprise in her when she felt it. Wanted to fuck her wet pussy while fingering her ass. It wasn't something he'd ever considered doing before, but now that the idea was in his head he couldn't believe he'd never considered it before. He pulled the finger back down and pushed it into her next to his cock, getting it dripping with her fluids. “I'm going to try something,” He whispered in her ear, “I'll stop if you want me to, but I really want to surprise you.” He said softly, biting her neck, knowing the spot would be a bright spark of pain. She nodded. One hand wrapped around the tangled mass of her hair, pulling her head up, while he pushed his finger into her ass in one quick hard movement.

She screamed, a sound somewhere between pleasure and pain, and he felt her cumming around him, felt her muscles trembling and clenching, her hungry pussy milking him. He bit down on the back of her neck, giving in to the desire. Filling her with his cum. He dropped to his knees behind her finger and cock leaving her in one smooth movement. He licked the white stripe up her thigh pulled her back making her bend over farther, spread her legs apart to open her up to him. He lapped at her dripping pussy until the taste of himself was over powered by the taste of her. He stood up abruptly and pushed two fingers into her, she gasped, the sound almost pained, “God I can't get enough of you.” he whispered, and felt the craving for something unknown clawing through him. He wanted to bury that want in her.

“God Sam,” She whined before cumming again, her legs buckled under her and he caught her, picked her up and carried her to the bed, he laid her on top of the sheet. She was beautiful. They were both still breathless and exhausted. He found a blanket and threw it over her, before crawling under the cover with her and wrapping himself around her.

“You okay?” He asked running a hand down her side.

“Sore, tired, good,” she said smiling, “think I could sleep for a week.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he laughed against the back of her neck, pressed a kiss into the purple bruise his teeth left behind and stretched out beside her.

He felt good, not tired, but content to lay beside her while she slept. Felt like he could take on the world and make it do exactly what he wanted. Despite not feeling tired his eyes drifted close. It was the alcohol weighing him down, that made it so easy to slip deeper under, until he found himself dreaming. The dream was a confusion of images, Dean driving in the impala, a smirk on his lips, smiling at Sam.

A bridge in the dark headlights cutting through the night. Sam's heart speed up, when the dream shifted and he was back home, the single fern had grown and was joined by more, cookies on a plate and fire licked around him.

He woke up screaming. Jess had her arms wrapped around him screaming his name, shaking his shoulder. He felt white hot tears burning their way down his cheek. For a second he thought his eyes were burning from the smoke, but he blinked and he was still on his bed he looked up to the ceiling above him, there was nothing but an unbroken expanse of textured paint. Jess was still above him, but closer, close enough the tangled locks of her hair brushed his face. Close enough that he could smell the alcohol on her breath and feel the press of her naked chest against his own. Close enough that he pulled her to him, pulled her under him and wrapped himself around her. Protecting her from the nightmare.

It took a few minutes to realize that she was talking to him.

“I'm okay,” he said, running a hand down her stomach, “just a nightmare, it wasn't real.” his head pounded, “I'm never drinking again.”

She smiled up at him, her fingers teasing along his ear, “spoken like a true college kid.” She sighed content when he kissed her. “are you alright? Want to talk about it?”

“No,” he said softly, “just need some painkiller for this hangover.”

He didn't make a move to get off of her though, unable to let go yet, even knowing it was just a dream it wasn't real, he couldn't stand the thought of losing her, of losing her like that made it even worse. His head throbbed in a rising beat that reminded him of rock music and endless roads, he pushed the thought out, That wasn't his life anymore, that'd never be his life again. All the proof he needed of that was in his bed, arms around him, whispering “i love you,” softly into his ear.

He fell onto the bed next to her, she rolled toward him and kissed him, “I'm gonna find some Tylenol, light off or on?”

“Off,” he said his hand coming up to cover his eyes from the glare, “just hurry up and get back here.”

He had managed to calm down by the time she came back, wearing his t-shirt and a pair of bright green panties, “what would I do without you?” he whispered when she handed him the glass of water and the small travel sized bottle of painkiller.

“Crash and burn,” she whispered leaning forward to kiss him, “no more nightmares okay?”

“I promise.” he said smiling despite the lingering ache, He pulled wrapped his arms around her again, holding her close as he could, pressing kisses against any part of her that he could reach. The pain receded to the point it was manageable. But sleep still eluded him. When she fell asleep he untangled himself from her arms and went back to dig the cellphone from his pocket.

He didn't know how to say it, if the message would even go through, or if his brother would ignore it. In the end he texted “Got a new place, thought you should know where to find me.” he ended the message with the address and hit send before he could change his mind. He wanted to call him, to tell him he had a nightmare and couldn't sleep, that he was dreaming about what had happened to their mom, only in the dream it wasn't her it was his girlfriend, wanted to ask Dean to come make sure they were safe, wanted to say a million things. In the end he said none of them. He put up the phone and crawled back in bed with his sleeping girlfriend determined to put the past out of his mind.

 

 


End file.
